Her Russian Brute: 50 Loving States, Idaho (12 page)

Those friends were right. Her father eventually found an organization that would fund the surgeries needed to fix his palate. And once that was done, he got another job. Not a good job. Washing dishes in the cramped and dingy kitchen of a Chinese restaurant in San Francisco. But as he told his young daughter, this job was much better than the one he’d had back home. Better pay and nicer bosses—plus the opportunity for Sola to grow up happy, educated, and well-fed.

“We shared an apartment half the size of this room with my dad’s sister, Ximena, and like fifty million cousins,” she joked to Ivan in his gigantic bedroom. “But we were happy.”

But then her father’s workplace was raided, and three months later, he was deported without his daughter back to Guatemala. He died soon after of a fever, but Sola was convinced it was actually of a broken heart.

He could hear the love she still carried for the man who’d died too soon as she said, “Papa couldn’t read or write, but he did manage to call me once before his death. The last thing he ever said to me was ‘Be good, Marisol. Be safe. Stay away from those dangerous boys.’”

She explained to Ivan, “I was fourteen. He was scared for me. Any father would be.”

And Ivan, who’d never been the least bit curious about the girls he’d slept with before, found himself asking, “How about this aunt he left you with? Did she not take care of you after this?”

“As much as she could,” Sola answered. “Aunt Ximena had kids of her own, and even a few grandkids. To her, I was just another mouth to feed. I think she was relieved when I got into ValArts and moved to Southern California.”

Sola sighed beside him, her voice tinged with sadness. “I get it. I mean, undocumented life is hard in America, and there were so many of us in that apartment. I just don’t think she had it in her to be sentimental about me leaving and never coming back. Still, she did what she could, and I try to send her money whenever I can. I’m allowed to work at the college, even though I’m undocumented, and Brian and Eddie barely charge me rent. When you think about it like that, I’m one of the lucky ones, really.”

One of the lucky ones…no “lucky” was not a word Ivan would have chosen to describe her life. “Brian and Eddie? This is the couple you live with? One is old drunk and the other is…sick?”

They weren’t touching, but he could sense her stiffen beside him.

“They’re more than that,” she assured him. “Brian is a brilliant director, and he’s been good to be me. He took me under his wing and taught me everything I know about stage direction. And Eddie—he inspires me…”

She went quiet for a long while, before confessing, “I was going to drop out of school, you know. My dad always told me to follow my heart, and I knew from the first time I saw a staged play that my heart was in the performing arts. But it was so hard going to ValArts. All those rich kids, partying and getting high all the time. Being totally okay with taking unpaid internships, because Mommy and Daddy were paying for everything, anyway. At one point, it felt less like I was following my heart, and more like I was being stupid. But then Eddie got sick, and that’s when I got it—really got it. I might not be rich or an official U.S. citizen even, but everyone has one thing in common: just this one life to live. And I didn’t want to waste mine. Honestly, I don’t know how I’m going to make my dreams come true, or even what I’m going to do after I graduate, but I know I have to try. I know my father and Eddie would want me to try. So that’s what I’m doing. That’s how I’m living.”

For moments after she was done with her story, Ivan could only lie there in awe of her. Her resilient spirit and all she had overcome to get to where she was today—only to have a Russian monster come along and ruin it all.

“This is why you do not want to be with me in this way now,” he said in the dark, feeling exactly like the scum he was. “You worked very hard to get to your last semester at school and I took away everything you worked for in just one night.”

She didn’t respond to his comment, but she didn’t have to. Her silence was confirmation enough.

He was Ivan Rustanov. Throughout his life, he’d been given anything and everything his heart desired. He’d been offered his first sip of expensive vodka at age 12, his first female companion at age 15, his first super sports car—the original Marussia B1—before he was legally allowed to drive. In his life, nothing had been denied to him, not even revenge for his family’s death.

But this small girl humbled him, made him feel for the first time in his life, that he was undeserving. Of this life he’d been given or this angel who’d somehow found her way to where he’d been hiding away from the rest of the world.

“I’ll fix what I have broken,” he vowed, reaching across the distance that separated them. He pulled her onto her side to face him and once again pushed the curls out of her face. “When the snow melts, I will make this right. I promise you this on my name.”

She looked at him, her brown eyes wide with surprise. “Wow, you don’t have to do that. I was just telling you my story because you told me yours.”

“Sola, understand what I am saying to you now,” he said, tipping her face up towards his. “I take care of you now. I have done this thing to your life, and you will let me fix it.”

“But—”

He cut her off with a kiss. Not wanting her protests, but needing her mouth.

Besides it was already decided. He might not deserve Sola, but Sola would get everything she deserved.

He would not rest until that happened.

And suddenly, just like that, Ivan’s life—which seemed to have hit a dead-end only a few weeks ago—once again had purpose.

T
hat Sola was going
to get exactly what she deserved.
Just as soon as he found her.

It was Christmas Eve, and Scott had been waiting outside Sola’s house for nearly two weeks. The old man, Brian, had come and gone from the main house a few times, when that nurse came to babysit the crippled fag he lived with. But Sola had yet to return.

Partly out of boredom and partly on a hunch, Scott decided to switch things up that evening and follow the old professor when he left the house shortly after the Mexican nurse’s arrival.

Let him have a few
, Scott decided when Professor Krantz pulled up to J.J.’s, a strip mall dive bar, and went in. Maybe the liquor would loosen his tongue and he’d be more likely to tell Scott where Sola was when he came out.

But the longer Scott waited for the old man to leave the bar, the angrier he got. It had been almost two hours since the professor had gone in, and it had long since grown cold and dark inside Scott’s Mustang.

Scott’s phone lit up, buzzing again with his agent’s number.

His new team had unexpectedly made it into the playoffs, and though Scott hadn’t been scheduled to officially start playing until the following season, both his agent and his new coach had asked him to bench up for the upcoming games. Scott had agreed to do this back when he thought it would only be a matter of days before Sola returned. The plan had been to wait for her to come home, beg her forgiveness, and then convince her to come back with him to Omaha. Just for the holidays, he’d claim, if that was what it took to get her there.

But she never returned, so Scott had missed yesterday’s flight to support his team during the first of their playoff games. A lot of people were mad at him now. And his agent wouldn’t stop calling. He’d even threatened to dump Scott as a client in his last voicemail.

All because of Sola.

Yes, he’d beg for her forgiveness. Do whatever it took to get her on the next flight to Omaha with him. But once they got to Nebraska, it would be another story. He’d have to start training her immediately, just like his father trained his mother. He’d have to teach her not to talk back. To be a good wife. The kind of wife Scott deserved.

Scott had a vision of how their life would be together. So clear, it felt like a film in his head. But first he had to find her.

On an impulse, Scott tossed his phone into the car’s cup holder, and climbed out. He was sick of waiting.

He found the old man easily. The professor was on the dance floor, dancing to Kid Rock’s,
I’m a Cowboy, Baby.
Well, Scott supposed you could call it dancing. The old guy was sloppy drunk and barely able to stand. He was half swaying, half staggering at a completely different tempo to the music. The only thing steady about him was the drink he held tightly in his hand.

Scott scanned the bar. No college kids. Mostly locals, none of which were wearing Suns jerseys or any other sports team gear that he could see. They all seemed far more interested in drowning their individual sorrows than in Scott’s arrival.

Good
, he thought, making a beeline for the professor. Less chance of anyone rolling tape on the conversation he was about to have.

“Sola send you here to get him?” the guy behind the bar asked as Scott passed by. “I’ve been trying to call her for over an hour. Brian is definitely ready to go home.”

Scott just nodded at the bartender and laid a hand on Professor Krantz’s shoulder. “Okay, Professor Krantz,” he started to say.

Brian jerked around and squinted up at him. “Alexei! Is that you?” he slurred, placing one hand on Scott’s chest to steady himself. “I’ve been trying to reach you, man. Sola…you have to call that cousin of yours. Tell him to let her come home.”

“What?” Scott asked. Icy anger exploded in him at just the thought of Sola with another man. But of course that’s where she was. He’d been too soft with her. He realized that now. He’d wanted their relationship to be a little bit sweeter than the one his parents had. But that had been a mistake. Scott could see that now.

“Where is she?” Scott demanded. “Tell me exactly where she is and who she’s with.
Right now
.”

Brian didn’t look so much scared by the threat in Scott’s voice as confused. “You don’t know? But you sent me there, Alexei, you—wait a minute…”

The old man’s eyes narrowed on Scott. If not for the situation, which involved him having important information Scott needed, the look on his face would have been comical.

“You’re not Alexei! You’re that ex-boyfriend of hers. I’m not telling you anything!”

“Now Professor Krantz…” Scott started.

“What are you doing here? Were you following me?”

Scott could almost feel the interested gazes of the few bar patrons land on the two of them. Brian was getting loud, but Scott purposefully kept his voice low as he tried to explain, “I just need to know where Sola is. I need to find her. We had a misunderstanding—”

“I don’t like you. I’ve never liked you,” the old man informed him, his face growing redder and more belligerent by the second. “Now get off my property. Before I call the police!”

“This isn’t your property!” Scott snapped back at him. “Now tell me where Sola is and who she’s with, or I’ll—”

The professor once again cut him off. This time with a right hook straight to Scott’s face. The punch was sloppy and without much force behind it, but it did the job. Scott’s head whipped to the side, and he staggered—more out of surprise than anything else.

Shouting erupted in the bar, and by the time Scott righted himself, one customer was holding Brian back and the bartender had come from behind the bar carrying a bat.

“Sorry about that,” he said to Scott, shaking his head at Professor Krantz. “Brian’s obviously had too many. Let’s stop this right here. I’ll personally make sure he gets home tonight, and he can sleep it off.”

“No!” Scott snarled, lunging forward. He was going to kill that old man. Pound him into the ground.
Forget how much Sola cares about him
, he thought—

Scott stopped himself mid-lunge, an idea suddenly occurring to him. An idea that would definitely bring his missing girlfriend out of hiding.

At the very last minute, he backed away, raising his hands in a pantomime of surrender. But it wasn’t surrender really. More like the beginning of a new play.

“No,” he repeated to the bartender. But this time he added, “
Call the police.
”

Then he smiled calmly at Professor Krantz, the man who would serve as his unwitting ticket to getting Sola back, and declared, “I’m pressing charges.”

“
D
o it
, Sola…” Ivan said, his voice low and threatening.

“No, I can’t,” she answered, shaking her head. Seated as she was—completely naked in his big bed—it was hard, vulnerable work to stand up to him. But Sola couldn’t do what he was telling her to do. She just couldn’t!

“Sola, this is not a request,” the huge, naked Russian sitting across from her said.

“But—” she started.

“No, buts,” he all but growled at her. “Now stop making me wait and open your present!”

Sola fingered the box in her hands. It was neatly wrapped with shiny green paper. And she wanted to open it, she did. But she felt too guilty.

“I didn’t know we were going to exchange Christmas presents,” she told him. “At least not real ones. I was just planning on giving you, like, a really nice blowjob or something.”

He grinned at her. “You have already given me a really nice blowjob.”

“What? When?!” Sola demanded.

He waggled his eyebrows.

And she let out an embarrassed groan. “Oh, my gosh…” she said with an embarrassed groan. “Did I seriously blow you while I was sleep walking?”

“
Da
,” he answered with a lazy smirk. “You also cursed like sailor and complimented me many times on how well I fucked. Would you like me to tell you what else you did while I wait for you to open my present?”

“No…” Sola mumbled, and she began ripping open the gift of only to distract Ivan from the current topic.

As many things as they’d done together during the days leading up to Christmas, as many stories as they’d shared, she still couldn’t get over the fact that they’d had a longer—and apparently more varied—sexual relationship while she’d been asleep.

But all her embarrassment was replaced with sheer glee when she opened the box to find…

“Wool socks! Oh my gosh, Ivan!”

She threw herself across the bed and hugged him before settling back to pull on the thick socks.

“How did you know I needed these?”

She got her answer in another smug smile. “I swear I’m
never
going to go to sleep without at least one drink again.”

Ivan just chuckled, low and deep. “Sola, it does not matter if you are awake or asleep. However you want me, you can have me.”

She looked up at him, unable to imagine not wanting him, even against her better instincts. But then her smile faded when she remembered their uneven gift exchange. “I only wish I’d gotten you something. This was so thoughtful.”

The mirth in his eyes faded as well, and his voice took on a more serious tone as he said, “If you’re serious about giving me a gift, there is one thing I would very much like from you.”

“Sure,” she said, shifting to her hands and knees, mouth already watering in anticipation of his request. “Anything you want…”

But then he said, “I would like the name of the man who hurt you. The not nice guy who bruised your face before you came here to me. This is the only gift I want from you.”

Sola sighed, sitting back on her knees. “Anything but that.”

“Why not?” Ivan asked. “Are you still in love with him?”

“No!” she quickly assured him with a sad sigh. “I’m not sure I ever
was
in love with him. He sort of swooped in, and I went along for the ride because he was the kind of guy a girl like me is supposed to like. Nice. All-American boy from Nebraska. But then he started becoming more and more controlling, and I knew we had to break-up. That’s what I was trying to do when he—when he hit me.”

The last four words drew an animalistic sound out of Ivan, and his fists bunched at his sides.

“See, that’s why I can’t tell you his name. I know what you’ll do to him.” Not just beat him, she suspected in her heart of hearts. Far worse.

“What I don’t understand is why you wouldn’t want me to punish this boy for what he did to you. And I know he is boy because a man would never do this to someone he loves.”

“You’re right, he is a boy,” Sola admitted. “That’s why I’m with you right now and not him. That thing with him is over.”

“It’s not over,” he insisted, covering her hand with his. “Not until—”

“What do want to do, Ivan? Hurt him? Beat him? Worse?”

Something ticked in Ivan’s jaw, and Sola knew, even before he could answer, that “worse” was at the top of his list.

“And then what?” she asked. “Then you come back here and wait for another sad story girl to come along so you can avenge everyone who’s wronged her, too?”

He shook his head. “You are more than a sad story girl to me. You know this.”

But she shook her head at him. “I didn’t tell you that story the other night so you’d feel sorry for me. I don’t want your pity, Ivan.” She didn’t realize how true those words were until she said them out loud.

“I don’t pity you, Sola,” he said after a long, tense moment.

“Good, then prove it. Leave that other guy out of this. He’s something I left behind, and I don’t want him here with us. Do you understand?”

She watched his mouth work as he contemplated her request. And she realized in that moment, how different he was from Scott. How unfair it had been of her to dismiss him as nothing more than a spoiled brat that day in the solarium.

Scott had continuously whined throughout their relationship. About his team. About L.A. About all the things that were wrong with the world, as if he was owed everything in this life just because he could run fast and a catch a ball.

But Ivan’s sense of right and wrong seemed to go deeper than that, and she could see in the way he struggled with her request that unlike Scott, he truly did care about someone other than himself.

“C’mon…” she wheedled, “My original Christmas gift idea will be so much more fun.”

He regarded her for a long, scowling second before leaning back against the bed’s headboard and spreading his legs to give her a front row view of the erection nestled between them.

He was hard again, she realized with an inner smile. For her. Not because he pitied her, but because he wanted her, even when she talked back to him. He had no idea how unlike Scott he was in every way.

Or maybe he did. The smile on his face was 110% smug as he gave in with a, “Fine, Sola. I will take this other gift. I admit I am curious about who has more brains: Sola when she is sleeping, or Sola when she is awake.”

“Brains…?” Sola’s nose crinkled. “Do you mean who’s better at giving head?”

He frowned. “Yes, more brains. This is not a slang word you use?”

“Not unless you’re a rapper.”

“Ah, that would explain it. In my old life, I listened to much rap. I like it much, much better than opera—”

“Ivan?” she interrupted, crouching over his heavily veined erection.

“Yes, Sola?”

“I’m about to get very smart on your dick. Why don’t you stop talking while you’re ahead?”

D
a
, his Sola was smart,
so very smart
, Ivan thought to himself as he stroked her hair. He watched the curly-haired angel between his legs go up and down on his dick with hooded eyes.

It was funny, because before his accident, he’d had more models and actresses go down on him than he could count. But they all paled in comparison to Sola. He’d never met anyone like her before. So innocent and sweet, yet willing to stand up for the people she loved. Full of surprises. And the way she looked at him. He’d lost track of how many times their eyes had locked while they were making love.

Even when it came time for her to leave him in the spring, he knew he’d never forget the way she held his gaze unflinchingly as he moved inside her. She didn’t just make him feel like his old self again, she made him feel even better.

She’s making me a better man
, he thought to himself with another tender caress of her soft curls. His dick pulsed harder inside her sweet mouth. And
da
, she gave even better head when she was awake.

Her coming to his room that night of the full moon had been a very erotic surprise. A life-changing one. But this was even better. He liked being able to watch her in the daylight. Treasured every sound as she wetly sucked his dick, slurping up the pre-cum as soon as it pearled at the head.

Such a pretty picture, but unlike the other girls he’d been with, he didn’t feel like he was watching a show. She was sucking his dick because she liked it and because she wanted to make him happy, not because she wanted him to look at her or give her things.

And ironically, that made him want to give her even more. Not only her education—which he owed her anyway. But things like jewelry, clothes…his heart.

Except she already had that, he realized, as a rising sensation started up his spine.

He was crazy about her. Literally and figuratively. He more than liked her already, and it made him feel slightly unhinged. Like no matter how much he did for her, it would never be enough.

For the first time in his entire life, a certain notion occurred to him. He wasn’t good enough. He’d been good at fighting. He’d be more than adept at killing. But he was nowhere near good enough for this woman.

A pleasant piercing sensation interrupted his thoughts, and soon after, his dick swelled even larger and a deep growl tore from him as began to spill into her warm mouth. He came, and came, and came some more, emptying rope after rope of his seed into her throat.

“Good?” she asked, when she was finally done swallowing.

He watched her tongue snake out to catch a drop of his semen, glistening at the corner of her full mouth, and instantly hardened again.

Seeing his new erection, Sola’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, I can’t. You’ve got to give me at least a minute to recover,” she groaned with a laugh. Then she rushed to snuggle up against his side as if she were running away from the jutting erection between his legs.

“Take your time,” he answered. “It will still be here when you are ready, Sola.”

She responded with more sweet laughter, and he relished the sound. Had he ever had a better Christmas? A better moment? Being with Sola like this was better than all his fight wins put together.

“I want to do something more for you,” he said, kissing the top of her curly head.

She just laughed and wiggled her be-socked feet against his legs. “I mean these socks are everything. Totally worth the blowjob. Maybe even four more.” She kissed his ruined cheek, as always not seeming to distinguish it from the better half of his face. “Seriously, babe, what could be better than this?”

She got the answer to that question about two hours later. After she’d had enough time to recover from Ivan’s thank you for his Christmas blowjob, then recover yet again when she’d made the mistake of accidentally pushing her butt into his crotch as they settled in for a nap.

He hadn’t been able to leave her alone long enough to sleep much over the past few days. Consequently, Sola was still yawning and a little bleary eyed as he led her through the door of the first room they’d made love in—at least while she’d been awake.

He escorted her to one of the guest chairs, all but setting her down into it, before he went around to the other side of the desk.

“What’s this all about?” she asked as she watched him drop into his desk chair with a sleepy smile.

She looked so well-fucked right now, it made him want to carry her back up the stairs and make sure that look never left her face.

But first the gift, then he’d spend the rest of Christmas fucking her, with nothing weighing on his conscience.

“There is no cell phone reception in this town, but the landlines work just fine.” He pushed the old-fashioned rotary phone on his desk toward her, and answered her question with a, “Call your professor. Wish him a Merry Christmas.”

“Okay, Brian’s Jewish, and doesn’t really celebrate Christmas now that Eddie’s sick, but who cares? Thank you! Thank you!” she cried.

The look on her face was “thank you” enough. And he knew how important this man must be to her when instead of running upstairs to get her phone, she began the long process of dialing the professor’s number on the rotary phone, because she knew it by heart.

“This is amazing,” she said when she finished dialing. “He’ll be so relieved when he finds out I’m okay.” She threw him a saucy smile. “Actually, better than okay.”

But then she broke off with a frown. “That’s weird. It went straight to voicemail…”

She hesitated, then peeped up at him, biting her lip. “Do you mind if I make another call? Brian might be indisposed, but if I could talk with Eddie’s home aide…”

Ivan thought darkly of the man he’d found stumbling around his property and could only bet what Sola meant by “indisposed.” He had a bad feeling about this.

But she was looking at him across his desk now, with so much hope and very little guile. He gave in with a, “Yes, of course. One more call. Go get your phone.”

She shot out of the room so fast, you would think he would have felt better about the decision he’d just reluctantly made.

But instead, he felt worse. Even though he was being the better man for Sola, he had a gnawing worry in his gut. And it only became stronger when Sola returned to the room with her phone and dialed a second number with shaky hands.

She gave Ivan a small smile when she was done. “It’s ringing…” she let him know, before breaking off to say, “Hey Vanessa, it’s Sola! I tried to call Brian, but his phone went straight to voicemail—”

She broke off, sitting up in her chair with a truly alarmed look on her face. “What do you mean he’s in jail? But how…?” Then her face crumpled and she said, “No, Vanessa, I can’t. I’m-I’m stuck up here in Idaho. I won’t be able to come back until the snow melts. Possibly not until spring…”

The rest of their conversation was drowned out by the ringing in his ears. The same as when that car bomb detonated with his sister and parents inside. Because Ivan knew then…knew, like only a man who’d lost his entire family in one second could know, he’d unwittingly destroyed what he and Sola had between them.

The dream was over. And real life had just reared its ugly head.